


Wayward Souls

by Hippomatrix



Series: Wayward Souls [1]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Snuggling, This is basically me just venting about my mental health issues, attempted suicide tw, intrusive thoughts TW, self harm tw, why did I write this??? Why do I make myself suffer like this??? I just don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hippomatrix/pseuds/Hippomatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soul released a shaky breath. "I don't know what's wrong. It's just getting worse again." He clenched the fabric of her shirt as he mumbled his words into her skin. "I can't fucking do this anymore, Maka. I can't do any of it." He tangled his hand in one of her ponytails as his body began to shake with barely suppressed sobs. "I'm sorry."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wayward Souls

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just a vent fic for me. I've suffered all of Soul's symptoms. However, I did not let it go on as long as he does in this fic. I've been in therapy for a little over a year and I've been on meds for about 7 or 8 months. I started on lexapro which didn't work for me and now I'm on prozac. If enough people want, I might do a sequel to this focusing around depression after intervention. So let me know if you're interested.

Maka bolted upright in bed and gasped for air. She threw her blankets off of herself and shifted her legs over the edge of her small bed. Trying not to hyperventilate, she cradled her head in her arms and blinked profusely, hoping it would make the nightmare go away. She ran her hand over her eyes and slowly stood up to take the few steps needed to get to the wall. She flipped the switch and leaned her head against the door, looking at the exposed floorboards of her dorm room as her eyes adjusted to the light.

Maka had picked a one person room when she started college specifically because she didn't want to wake anyone up with her nightmares, but it was hard sometimes, not having anyone to comfort her. She glanced at her small desk, at the key that sat innocently next to her textbooks, the guilt she felt looking at it roiling in her stomach. He'd given it to her weeks ago when he first got his apartment, said she could come over whenever. She hadn't, though. She'd been avoiding him because the dreams were getting worse and she didn't want him to worry. Maka didn't want him to see the dark circles under her eyes and the way she dragged her feet on the ground instead of walking at her normal brisk pace.

She decided not to go to see him and switched off her light, slumping back onto her bed prepared for yet another sleepless night in her dark room.

* * *

Maka woke up abruptly for the third time that night and glanced at her clock. _2:47 AM_. She moaned and buried her head in her pillow, then glanced at her desk as her eyes adjusted to the dark and decided to finally give in and go to see him. She stood up and grabbed the key, stuffing it in the pocket of her sweatpants. She pulled her favorite hoodie on over her tanktop and gathered her hair into two very messy ponytails.

As she opened her door she realized she had no shoes or socks on, so she pulled them on quickly, then left, hoping she hadn't forgot anything. She closed and locked the door to her dorm room and made her way down the hallway towards the steps and then out of the dorm complex.

Maka ambled through the streets in the dark, so tired she didn't even register how peaceful and serene the night was. She almost walked past his apartment building, but thankfully she noticed before she did. She made her way up the stairs to the right floor and located his door. She stood in front of it for what felt like an eternity, half expecting him to open it and complain about how early it was and how she should be sleeping, but nothing happened. It was just her and the door.

After staring down the number for several minutes in silence, Maka gave in and pulled the key from her pocket, fitting it's teeth into the lock. She opened the door as slowly and quietly as possible and stepped into his apartment. When she detected no movement, she closed the door behind her and made her way quietly through his small living room and to his couch. Maka sunk onto its soft cushions and breathed in its scent, the one that always seemed to surround the air around him, the one that had comforted her since her junior year of high school. She smiled slightly and tucked herself against the back of the couch, imagining it to be a cocoon of safety.

"Goodnight, Soul," she whispered.

* * *

Soul woke up at _3:58 AM_ to the sound of shifting in the other room, and after a brief moment of hesitation, tiredly opened his door to see what it was. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but Maka sleeping curled up on his couch was not it. He made his way over to her and knelt down, noticing how tensed her body language was. Her hand was clutching the couch cushion under her and her toes were curled.

He got up to get a blanket for her, but before he could take more than a few steps away from her, she jerked violently upward and grasped at the back of the couch to steady herself. He leaned over the couch and took her face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks and looking into her widened eyes to try and soothe her.

"It's not real," he whispered. "It's not."

Maka bit her lip and nodded, but he could see the tears gathering in her eyes. He sighed and rounded the couch, sitting next to her. She swiped her hand across her face to gather the few tears that had managed to fall and looked away from him.

"I know," she said softly, her voice shaking. "I know it's not real. I know. But it feels real. I never realize it's a dream until I wake up. I..." she paused and wiped her face again. "I just... I can't do this," she mumbled into her hands, trying to breathe normally. "I can't."

Soul wrapped his arm around her back and pulled her against his chest, looping his other arm under her legs and picking her up as he stood. She flailed for a second in surprise, then gave in and rested her head against his collarbone. "I'm sorry," she whispered into his neck.

Soul kissed the top of her head and carried her into his room, laying her on his mattress and tucking the blankets around her.

As he got up to leave the room and settle on the couch for the rest of the night, Maka reached out her hand to him. He knew without her saying anything that she wanted him to stay, so he got under the blankets with her and kissed her forehead again, smiling tiredly as she shifted closer to him and settled down to sleep, her hand curled over his.

"Goodnight, Maka. Sweet dreams."

* * *

Soul shifted slightly as he woke up, trying to keep the comfortable and warm feeling of sleep in his bones. He needed something to help him get through the day, and sometimes the memory of the warmth and safety of his blankets was enough. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked lazily. Glancing to the left side of the bed, he saw that Maka had managed to kick most of the portion of the blankets that had been covering her onto his side of the bed.

He sat up and pulled the blankets back over her so that the warmth would be evenly distributed to them both and shifted closer to her so that his hand lay next to hers.

He liked to think of moments like these as pressed flowers to take out and look at later. A brief moment of peace in which even the colors seemed softer than normal. He was surrounded by warmth and softness and he could watch her breath going in and out peacefully as she slept. He closed his eyes and wrapped his fingers around hers, knowing today would be one of the lucky ones in which he could fall back asleep.

* * *

Maka woke up tired, but it was a good tired. It was a normal tired instead of her usual fatigue from working herself to the bone to avoid sleep and then waking up from a nightmare anyways. She could feel Soul's fingers over hers and his breath blowing softly over her hair. She snuggled closer to him and pulled his arms around her. He was wearing a t-shirt instead of his usual long sleeves for once and she could see the scars etched into his arms. She'd seen them before, but they hadn't been this bad. He'd had a few faded lines visible on his forearm the last time she'd glimpsed it. Now it was a mess of healed cuts and new ones. A few of them were an angry red, and she knew they must be fairly recent. That meant he'd made them in the last few days. She traced her fingers over his scars softly and pressed her lips to his wrist, wishing it didn't have to be this way and hoping it would get better soon.

If she didn't leave soon she'd be late for her morning classes, but she allowed herself a few more moments of rest before kissing Soul's scars one last time and getting up to head back to her own dorm to prepare for her morning classes.

* * *

College classes had only been in session for a week and she only saw him on campus occasionally. He was a music major and she was a law major so their classes didn't align.

She sat next to Soul in the campus library while he tried to study, pretending she wasn't watching him. He had drunk far too much coffee and was jittery because of it. His hands shook as he jotted down notes and he constantly fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves. Maka didn't know what she could do to help him. He was clearly struggling, but she wasn't sure if he wanted to be left alone or if he was trying to ask for help. Maybe it was a bit of both.

Maka shut her textbook and sighed. Soul looked up at her and she stared back into his eyes. She broke away from his gaze after a few seconds and smoothed her fingers over her ponytails. "We need to talk," she sighed.

He rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes, not replying. She scooted her chair closer to him and lightly touched his shoulder.

"Soul, I know. I know it's getting bad again." He stayed silent. "Soul, please. Let me help. What can I do?"

He lifted his head and looked at her, studying her face. Tears pooled in his eyes and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know," he whispered, voice cracking as he tried not to cry. "I just can't, Maka. I can't do this anymore. It's just too fucking hard."

Maka grasped Soul's hand in hers and leaned her forehead against his. "It's okay, Soul," she whispered, her voice breaking as she started to cry too. "It's gonna be okay." His head dropped to her shoulder and she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm here."

After a few seconds he pulled away from her and stood up, refusing to meet her eyes. He hurriedly swept his stuff into his bag and left. Maka sat in silence and stared down at her closed textbook through tear blurred eyes as the sound of his footsteps faded.

* * *

Soul sat on his couch and stared at the blank TV. Part of him wanted Maka to come barging in demanding that he let her help. Part of him wanted her to act like it hadn't happened. He didn't know what to do, so he just sat there and left it up to her to make the decision.

A little over an hour after he sat down to stare at the blank TV and overthink everything, she showed up. He was too out of it to hear her open the door or come in, so it seemed like Maka came out of nowhere like some kind of angel. She'd set her bag and shoes by the door and sat down next to him without him noticing until she reached out and touched his arm.

Maka scooted closer to him and tucked her legs under herself. She tugged his arm to her and slid the sleeve up. "Soul, this isn't okay."

He pulled his arm away. "I'm fine, really," he said, laughing uncomfortably as he pushed the fabric back down over his scars. "You don't need to worry."

Maka exhaled exasperatedly and moved to straddle him, grasping his chin so he'd have to look at her. "Yes I do," she huffed. "You're my best friend, Soul. It's my job to worry about you. Now tell me what's going on."

He halfheartedly tried to push her off but she stubbornly strung her arms behind him and clung to him. She rested her forehead against his. "Please," she whispered, her voice switching from harsh to desperate. "I want to help."

Soul released a shaky breath and gave in, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her against him. He buried his head in the crook between her shoulder and her neck. "I don't know what's wrong. It's just getting worse again." He clenched the fabric of her shirt as he mumbled his words into her skin. "I can't fucking do this anymore, Maka. I can't do any of it." He tangled his hand in one of her ponytails as his body began to shake with barely suppressed sobs. "I'm sorry."

She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly and hummed a lullaby to him. She could feel his hot breath on her neck and his hands clutching the fabric of her shirt to ground himself. It hurt to see Soul so distressed, but she was glad she could help in her own small way. After several minutes his crying subsided and his breathing began returning to normal. She rubbed circles on his back as his tensed form loosened around her and he settled into the cushions instead of hunching forward so he could ensure she stayed.

* * *

That night when Maka abruptly woke up in a panic and bolted upright in bed she didn't hesitate. She just pulled on her hoodie, slipped her shoes on, and sprinted out the door and to Soul's apartment. She was panting by the time she got to his door, but it felt nice to have an elevated heart rate because she was moving and not because of night terrors.

As she stepped into his apartment something felt different. The door to his room was open and he was sleeping at his desk, his face resting on a textbook. Maka started to close the door to give him some privacy, but as she did so he stirred awake. He blinked up at her as she stepped forward to help him up out of the chair and into his bed, but in his half asleep state he was impatient. He pulled her to him using her outstretched hand and she ended up sprawled across his lap, nearly falling to the floor in the process. She squeaked in surprise and tried to steady herself but only managed to get in an even more precarious position as Soul pulled her to him in his half conscious bid for cuddles. He mumbled something incoherent as he nuzzled his face into her neck right before they toppled over. He landed partially on top of her so she shoved at his chest. "Soul, get off." she whispered, annoyed. She pushed at his chest again but his only response was to curl protectively around her. After several failed attempts she managed to pry his arms off of her and wriggle out from under him.

"Who knew you liked cuddling so much?" Maka huffed as he again reached for her. She swatted his hand away and climbed onto his bed, toeing his arm with her foot. "Get up." He groaned and mumbled something into the floor. She rolled her eyes. "Well, if you're not gonna use your bed, I will, and you'll be all alone down there."

She smirked when he looked up at her with puppy dog eyes, but she made no move to go towards him. After a few long seconds he dropped his head in defeat and crawled along the floor to her feet. He hugged her legs like a child, humming a tune she didn't recognize, then partially stood up and collapsed onto her yet again, pinning her to the bed. She laughed and pushed him off her, then pulled him the rest of the way onto the bed and pulled the sheets over them. "Now go to sleep where you're supposed to," she whispered, bopping him gently on the head. He wriggled closer to her and pulled her against him, looping his arm around her waist and snuggling against her so that her head rested under his chin. She rested her hands on his chest and listened to his breathing as he fell back asleep, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat lull her to sleep too.

* * *

Maka began spending fewer nights in her dorm room and more in Soul's apartment. She laughed at him when he told her she should just move in, but once she bought a new toothbrush to keep in his bathroom she realized he had a point.

She'd often go to his apartment to study, but after a while she noticed that he never seemed to study when she was around, and she was around a lot. In fact, he didn't even go to most of his classes. His keyboard sat on his desk gathering dust because he never felt like using it anymore. Maka was getting increasingly more worried about his mental health so she officially moved in. She asked Black Star to come over and try to cheer Soul up, which seemed to work for a bit, but as soon as Black Star left the apartment, Soul's downtrodden demeanor returned. Black Star did text him memes every once in a while after that, which seemed to cheer him up for a few brief minutes.

The scars that had been fresh were now mostly healed and it didn't seem like there were any new ones, but Maka still worried. She saw the way his eyes sometimes strayed to the knife drawer for a little too long or latched onto her face as if he didn't think he'd ever see her again.

Soul didn't tell her, but his intrusive thoughts got progressively worse. He often felt the urge to stab or slash at himself with scissors and knives, but he didn't. He didn't want Maka to worry even more than she already did. The worst was when violent thoughts filled his head and he actually saw himself doing these things. He saw himself running at the ground and smashing his head against the concrete so that his brains splattered out. He saw himself hacking his hand off with scissors. He saw himself stabbing a pencil through his hand and had to put his pencil down for fear that he'd actually do what he was envisioning. It scared him, but he didn't want Maka to know about it because she'd just worry more and she was already worried enough.

Another problem was the blood he kept seeing. He knew it wasn't real, that it was just in his head, but at the same time he thought it was there. Sometimes he saw it dripping down the walls from the ceiling, sometimes there were puddles of it. He felt the urge to cut himself so he could see the blood well up and stain his skin. Sometimes he even saw blood on Maka's face. The first time it had happened he had scrubbed at her cheeks and forehead in a panic, trying to get it off even as she pulled his hands away and told him there was nothing on her face, that she was fine. Since then he had learned not to react. He simply tried to ignore it or close his eyes until it went away.

Maka made him come with her to hang out with Black Star and Tsubaki sometimes, but she could tell his heart wasn't really in it. He would half-heartedly attempt to join conversations, then fall silent and fiddle with her hair to distract himself until they could leave. She didn't understand what made it so hard for Soul to be happy and he didn't either. They lived in a sort of limbo as she lived her life and tried to help him trudge through his. Her grades stayed impeccable while his dropped drastically. Some days she couldn't even get him out of bed. Those were the worst days because there was nothing she could do about them. He would pull the covers up over his head and curl up for hours, not letting her touch him. On those days he said he didn't deserve her comfort so she should just leave him alone.

Occasionally he would seem to be getting better. He'd start playing his keyboard again and go to a few classes. He'd feel better for a few days. But it never lasted long. If it was possible, it hurt even more seeing Soul go from happy back to sad. Maka could see the silent resignation in his eyes, how he'd known his happiness wouldn't last, but when she asked him to try therapy he refused. He wouldn't say it, but she knew he was scared that if he went to therapy he'd confirm that he was unable to fix himself.

* * *

A few months after moving in, Maka had to go visit Black Star and help him out while Tsubaki was out of town. Black Star did competitive martial arts and he'd stupidly challenged several fighters to go at him at the same time. It hadn't ended well, and now he needed help around the house while healing. Maka had to stay at Black Star and Tsubaki's apartment for two days until Tsubaki got back.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" she asked Soul, plopping down on the couch next to him. He was watching TV, but she could tell he wasn't interested in the program. It didn't seem like he was interested in anything anymore. Everything he did was just meant to distract him from the impenetrable darkness that clouded his mind.

She ran her fingers through his white blond hair, noting how it was almost to his shoulders now. He closed his eyes and slumped against her, resting his head on her shoulder. Sometimes it felt like she was the only thing he hadn't given up hope in. "I'm going to be gone for two days. Are you going to be okay on your own?" Her vision blurred with tears as she grasped his hand. "I worry about you, you know. I know it's hard for you to believe me right now, but you are important to me." He opened his eyes and looked up at her and she choked out a sob. "I'm so sorry," she whimpered, covering her face with her hands. "I'm sorry I'm not enough, that I don't know how to help you, I just... It hurts seeing you like this. I want to help and I just don't know how. Please, tell me what I need to do to help."

He sat up and pulled her hands away from her eyes, resting his forehead against hers. Tears fell silently down his cheeks. "It's okay," he whispered, smiling sadly, "You've helped me so much more than you'll ever know." He closed his eyes. "Just go, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

She pulled him into an embrace for a moment, then stood up and made her way to the door. Soul walked out with her and once she was in the car he leaned on the door, watching her. She could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't speak right away. After a few moments of silence he leaned into the open window and rested his forehead against hers. He sighed, his eyes closed. "Thanks, Maka, for everything." He opened his eyes and reached out a hand to cup her cheek . "I... I don't don't think I've ever told you I love you, but I do." He pulled back and smiled tiredly at her, then went back into the apartment, closing the door behind him. Maka opened her mouth to respond but no words came out, and even if they had he wouldn't have heard them.

* * *

"Stop moping and make me something to eat," Black Star said, startling Maka out of her ponderings. "Soul's fine. He can be without you for a few days. It's not like he'll die."

She glared at Black Star. "You should be worried, too. I thought it was bad senior year, but that was nothing compared to this. He hardly eats and he hasn't cut his hair in months. He's not playing piano or even keyboard. He's failing out of college. I thought my nightmares were bad, but he can't even sleep. He's turned into an insomniac. Some mornings I can't even get him out of bed." She looked up at the ceiling and willed herself not to cry.

"Black Star I'm scared. I need him. If he dies I'll... I don't even know what I'll do. I just need to help him and nothing I do works." She blinked back her tears and looked at Black Star. For once he was silent.

"If he matters to you that much, why'd you leave him?" he asked as if he thought she was an idiot.

She glared at him. "You know why. I need to help you out while Tsubaki's gone."

In a rare moment of seriousness, Black Star rolled his eyes at her. "I'm fine, I can take care of myself. Tsubaki's overprotective. If you're really that worried about him, you should go home."

Maka wiped her tears away and smiled at him. "I thought the mighty God needed servants at all times," she joked, trying not to show how touched she was by his words.

He smirked. "I'm a God, I can go a day or two without my loyal subjects."

* * *

Soul had known, when she told him she had to leave for a few days, that this would be his chance to end their mutual suffering. He couldn't bring himself to commit suicide while Maka was home, but she was going to be away for two days. He'd thought about doing it before now, but in the last couple of weeks it had turned into an unending need to die. He couldn't bear thinking about living the rest of his life if it was going to be like this, and he could see how much it hurt Maka to take care of him. He knew she'd be sad once he died, but it was better than her having to watch him wither away for the rest of their lives. He was doing it for them both.

First he tried slashing his wrists, but he didn't cut deep enough and he barely bled. He tried to slit his throat, but his traitorous hands wouldn't push the blade down hard, so the blade barely scratched him. Then he tried suffocating himself with a pillow. That didn't work either because his hands again betrayed him and pulled the pillow from his face before he could even lose consciousness. Then he filled the bathtub with water and tried to drown himself but encountered the same problem. For his last attempt he tried to overdose on painkillers, but he threw up after swallowing 11.

Soul cursed in frustration, wondering why the world wouldn't just let him die. He pounded the wall with his fist until it bled, feeling somewhat satisfied that he'd stained the wall with blood. Now it was really there and not just a hallucination. He pounded his other fist against the wall and watched his knuckles bleed, pondering how else he could kill himself. Then, like a lightbulb had gone off, he started searching for a rope or cord to hang himself with.

After what felt like hours of searching, Soul found an extension cord that seemed long enough and looked up how to tie a noose. He almost cried tears of joy upon seeing that he would finally be able to end his suffering. Once it was completed he secured it, then stepped back to look at their apartment one last time. He was glad he'd told Maka he loved her, because then she'd know it wasn't her fault. It was his fault. Everything was his fault, and she'd be better off without him.

He stepped up onto the chair and pulled the loop over his neck, closing his eyes and taking one last, deep breath in.

The door opened just as Soul kicked the chair away. Maka screamed in horror and sprinted to him, wrapping her arms around his legs and holding him up so he wouldn't choke. She grappled for the chair and dropped it several times in her panic while making sure she was supporting his weight. Finally, after the longest few seconds of her life, she got Soul's legs back on the chair and stepped up next to him to yank the noose off of his head. He slumped in her arms and she fell to the floor on top of him. She took his head in her hands and looked into his eyes, vision so blurred with tears she could barely see anything. "You fucking idiot," she sobbed, waiting for him to breathe. "Don't you dare die, Soul. Do you hear me?" She closed her eyes and dropped her head to his chest. "I need you. I can't do this without you. Please, please, please be okay." She felt him take a shuddering breath and sobbed harder into his chest. "I thought I lost you." She wrapped her arms around him. "And I never even told you that I love you too." She pulled away and looked down at him. "I'm sorry, Soul. I'm so sorry. I'm going to get you help, and this time you can't talk me out of it. You need it."

**Author's Note:**

> I actually tried all theses methods of suicide except for hanging myself. I couldn't find a rope.
> 
> That being said, suicide is a serious problem, and this sounds super cliche, but it's not the answer. I still want to die and it's been about 2 months since I unsuccessfully attempted it, but I know it'll hurt my friends and family. Depression is like a dark cloud, it fills your head and tells you everyone will be better off w/o you, but that's not really true. I guess the moral of this fic is don't kill yourself? I'm being super hypocritical though, because if I had a chance to use a gun, I would immediately blow my brains out, but I don't have access to a gun, so there's nothing to worry about.


End file.
